


Set My Cap

by whitherwaywill



Series: one chapter wonders [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Astoria Greengrass, Draco Malfoy is a Sweetheart, F/M, Gen, IT'S COMPLETE, Just a Meet Cute, a lil bit of PTSD, and possible a little OOC, she's also sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitherwaywill/pseuds/whitherwaywill
Summary: Draco's hiding from his mother's incessant matchmaking. Turns out, he's not the only one...
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Series: one chapter wonders [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689838
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Set My Cap

Draco stood on the balcony, looking out over Malfoy Manor’s ballroom. 

He was practically blinded by the sheer amount of glitz and glamour. A string quartet of enchanted instruments played away in a corner; people whirled and twirled around each other on the dance floor in an elegant display. Around the edges, he saw various pockets of political power chatting with one another. Elsewhere, young men found themselves cornered by young women _and_ their mothers - potential brides. 

Draco could see his friends, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, encircled by said women. Blaise was in top form, kissing fingertips and flirting with ease. Theo, decidedly less so; he appeared angular and awkward next to Blaise. Draco _almost_ considered offering a rescue, until he remembered the touch of chaos that always followed Theo. 

Narcissa was in her element tonight, among the various denizens of high society, restoring the Malfoy reputation. It had taken quite a hit, after the war and his father’s subsequent imprisonment. Now, with Draco prepared to take his father’s seat on the Wizengamot and Narcissa’s house arrest finally over, his mother had decided that it was high time to restore the Malfoy name in earnest. 

Apparently, the best way to do that was to marry Draco off to a respectable woman. 

Even now, he could see Narcissa at the center of a gaggle of women. She glanced around, searching the crowd for him, nodding at the mother-daughter pair beside her. Draco squinted. The daughter - he knew her. She was in his year at Hogwarts… or maybe the year behind him? He couldn’t really remember. 

Just as Narcissa thought to check the balcony, Draco stepped backwards, ducking out of sight. He took a deep breath. 

His mother would want him to join her, to paint on a smile and charm the masses - remind them that although the Malfoys may be fallen, they still had money and good breeding on their side. 

Draco wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to return to the world, to build a life where his crimes were forgivable. He may have been pardoned (at the Chosen One’s behest, no less) but he knew he did not deserve it. 

He stalked along the gallery, keeping to the shadows. Running a hand along the wall, he searched for a doorknob, one to a hidden room… Ah. There it was. 

Opening the door just enough, Draco slid through the crack and closed the door quietly behind him. Resting his forehead against the door, he let out a sigh, shedding the tension in his shoulders. 

His father’s secret study. Before the second war, and even during, Lucius had used it to conduct business meetings, under the guise of a party. Now, it was the perfect place for Draco to escape his mother’s relentless matchmaking. 

Someone coughed behind him. 

Draco was immediately alert, his spine straightening painfully. He touched his wand, concealed in his sleeve, ready to fight if necessary. Best case scenario, he had interrupted a canoodling couple. Worst case, one of his father’s old associates had been laying in wait for him, with a wand now aimed at his back. 

“I’m sorry to intrude, but…” he slowly spun around, withdrawing his wand and aiming. “Seeing as it’s my house -” He stopped. 

Neither of his imagined scenarios were true.

Instead, he found a young woman about his age, curled up in his father’s armchair next to a roaring fire. She gazed up at him, her blue eyes wide. In her lap was a book - one of Lucius’ old atlases. 

Draco gaped. “I - who are you?” It wasn’t the most suave introduction, but he was flustered. 

She, on the other hand, was as cool and collected as any pureblood princess could be, after the initial shock. 

“Astoria,” she said calmly, changing her position to sit in the chair in a manner more becoming of a young lady. She closed the atlas firmly, placing it on her lap. 

Draco slunk along the wall, making his way behind his father’s desk, eyeing her the whole time. He ran a hand along the drawers, and the various outdated, dusty papers on the top.

Nothing seemed to be out of place. 

“Charmed, I’m sure.” Draco forced a smile onto his face, tucking his wand away and walking back around the desk. He leaned back against it, examining the woman. She pulled a pretty blush to her cheeks at his gaze. “Just what are you doing here?”

Astoria lifted a shoulder, blue eyes twinkling. “I was invited.”

_Great._ Draco pushed off the desk, flinging himself into the wingback chair next to the fire. “Invited to the Manor, or to this room specifically?”

“To the Manor, I suppose -”

“How did you even find this room?” Draco narrowed his eyes. “Only the family knows where it is.”

“I was trying to get away, just for a moment,” she said defensively. “I went to the gallery, and I just found it… it didn’t seem like it was in use.”

Astoria was really horribly tense. Her shoulders were rigid, and her hands white-knuckled on the edge of the atlas. Draco slouched in his chair, suppressing a groan. 

_This is great,_ he groused internally. _First my hiding place is taken, now I have to ameliorate the poor princess’ hurt feelings before any of this gets back to my mother._

He rubbed his temples, covering his eyes with a hand. He could feel a massive headache coming on. 

Astoria bit her lip. “I’m sorry, if I’m intruding,” she tried. “I can go, if you -”

“That would probably be best,” Draco cut her off, his eyes still closed. He didn’t see the affronted, vaguely hurt expression that passed fleetingly over her face. 

“Right.” Smoothing her expression, she rose from the chair, walking around it to deposit the atlas back onto the bookcase. “It’s only that it’s so loud down there. And my mother is very aggressively trying to marry me off. My sister too, but I -”

She stopped. “But you don’t want to hear that,” she said quietly. She made her way back around the chair, heading for the door. On her way, she paused next to the chair he was sitting in. 

“Thank you for the brief respite,” she said, a sweet half-smile on her face. 

He grunted. 

Astoria gave him a small nod. “Back into the fray,” she sighed, heading for the door. 

The further away she was, the colder and emptier the room seemed. Draco flinched, imagining it as it had been - without the fire Astoria had lit. Gray, dusty, and ghost-like. 

Draco grimaced, clenching his fist. “Wait - Astoria.” _What the hell are you doing?_

One hand on the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him. The fire turned his face into a dark profile. 

“If it’s really so bad out there,” he said, “you can stay.”

A flutter of excitement flew through her. “Really?”

He waved a hand languidly through the air, towards the chair she had recently vacated. “If you like.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she bit back a smile. “If you really don’t mind, then.” Astoria sauntered back over to the armchair, delicately perching on the edge. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him. “If I’m staying, does that mean I get a proper introduction?”

Draco steepled his fingers, mirroring her eyebrow raise. “Technically, none of this is proper,” he pointed out. “There’s no chaperone, no mutual acquaintance - we’re veritable strangers.”

She laughed. “Well, don’t worry about my reputation. That’s already quite sullied.”

Draco chuckled. “Somehow, I doubt that.” 

“No, really,” she said, earnestly. “I’m prone to disappearing.”

“Let me guess,” Draco pulled himself up into a sitting position. “You tend to vanish during society events, such as this one.”

Astoria wrinkled her nose at him. “How’d you know,” she said drily. “That’s why I’m here. It was a convenient hiding place - more secure than the gallery. I’d rather not be paraded around by Mother before all the ‘ _eligible gentlemen_ ’. I’ve barely finished school, for heaven’s sake!”

Draco shrugged. “C’est la vie.”

She made a face. “I despise it,” she said flatly. “I have no desire to get married.”

“We have a mutual loathing of the institution,” Draco noted. 

Astoria sighed. “It’s not like I’m going to be able to escape it, in the end. It’s my ‘duty to my family’.” She said the last three words drolly, putting on a snooty air. It was clear she was mimicking someone - probably her mother - who had said those words to her many times before.

Draco stifled a laugh. “If you don’t want to get married, what _do_ you want to do?” he asked.

“Travel,” she said, without a moment of hesitation. “I want to see the world. Everything, even the muggle bits.” She eyed him as she said this last bit. He resisted the urge to make a face at her. 

“Ambitious,” he said. If she thought he’d be rattled by her casual acceptance of muggles, she was wrong. “Thus, the atlas.”

Her eyes widened slightly, surprised that he noticed. “I like maps,” she said. “They’re the only way I’ll ever be able to see the world, unless my husband is insanely indulgent.”

“You could always travel before you marry,” Draco suggested. “Make it a condition of your bending to your family’s will.”

Astoria laughed, without hilarity. “It’s too late, I’m afraid,” she said. “Marriage fever has already taken over. Daphne’s way too into it. She’s already got half her wedding planned.”

“Daphne!” Draco snapped his fingers as he put a name to the face he’d seen by Narcissa’s side earlier. “Of course. You’re a Greengrass.”

“It’s unfair that you know both my names, and I don’t even know one of yours.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am.”

She lifted a shoulder in a delicate shrug. “I have some educated guesses.”

He smirked. “Greengrass, huh?”

“Blue blood, unfortunately. Mother expects me to set my cap any day now. Daphne’s already set hers.”

“On who?”

Her eyes twinkled with delight. “You’ll never guess.”

He spread his hands. “I’m sure I won’t.”

She leant in, beckoning him forward. He obliged.

“It’s our host,” she grinned. “Draco Malfoy.”

“Really,” Draco deadpanned. “ _The_ Draco Malfoy?”

“Oh, yes,” Astoria nodded, valiantly suppressing a smile. “Daphne’s got her heart set on catching him.”

“Oh, she’ll never manage that,” Draco smirked. “He’s much too difficult to please.”

“Is he?” Astoria hooked one foot behind another. She leaned her elbow on the armrest, resting her chin in her hand. “Why is that?”

Draco turned away, facing the fire. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, his gaze darting away quickly. His jaw worked. 

“He’s not -” Draco sighed, and dropped the ruse. “I’m not going to marry.”

Astoria didn’t betray any surprise on her part. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy,” she said jauntily. “And why won’t you marry?”

He leaned forward. “Think about it,” he said. “Marriage is the way every story ends. The man gets the girl, and they live happily ever after.”

Astoria frowned. “I like to think that marriage is the beginning of the story, not the end.”

“That’s not the point,” Draco said, shaking his head. “The point is, men like me don’t get a ‘happily ever after’. They _shouldn’t_ get a ‘happily ever after’.” 

Astoria’s mouth fell open, and a hint of steel entered her eyes. “You’re wrong.”

He stood, pacing away, up and down the short space between the chairs and the desk. “Look at me,” he said. “I was a Death Eater, I was a coward - I _am_ a coward. No amount of image rehabilitation will save me. I won’t marry some innocent woman, and drag her down with me.”

She followed suit, darting forward to interrupt his incessant laps, her hands braced against his shoulders. “You’re not a coward,” she said. “You made hard choices. It was _war._ Everyone was afraid - and you had the monster everyone was so afraid of sitting in your dining room.”

Draco shook his head, his right hand covering hers. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “There are choices I _could_ have made - paths I could have taken, _should have taken_. I am nothing but regret, Miss Greengrass. My mother believes that if she can just find some perfect, pure woman, she can fix me, that that’s all I need to be happy again. But if she does…” He took a deep breath. “My evil would just poison my wife, like it does everything around me.”

He tilted his head back, clenching his jaw and forcing the tears back. _Pull yourself together,_ he snarled at himself. _Did you really think spilling your secrets to some random woman in Father’s study was a good idea?_

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know why I said all that.” He straightened, and Astoria knew he was about to take a step back - away from her. His neutral, polite mask fell across his face, his eyes shuttering. “That’s why I sought refuge here, I suppose. If you’d do me the great honor of forgetting I ever said anything, I would be most obliged -”

Astoria gripped his arms, holding him still. “What if I don’t want to?”

His hands fell to her waist, as though he were preparing to physically lift her out of his path to the door. “I’d _appreciate_ not being blackmailed -”

“No,” she gasped, her grip loosening. “No - I wouldn’t -” She released him, her hands sliding down his arms to rest on his forearms. 

Astoria swallowed. “I can tell Daphne she should direct her sights elsewhere.” She huffed out a broken laugh. “Of course, that will call into question my motives, and who _I’ve_ got in my sights…”

“You shouldn’t set your cap on any of the blokes at this party,” Draco said, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “You’re too good for any of them.”

“Some of them might be too good for me,” she said softly, gazing up at him. He didn’t miss the way her eyes darted between his eyes and his lips, or the sudden lack of distance between them. 

“Not likely,” he breathed. His hands rested on her hips. They were so close - if he just leaned forward, closed the distance and - 

He took a step back, placing his hands behind his back. “You should go back to the party.”

She mirrored him, taking her own step back. “I should,” she agreed, wetting her lips. 

He took her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his silver eyes never dropping her gaze. “A pleasure, Miss Greengrass.”

“Likewise, Mr. Malfoy.” The corner of his mouth quirked. He knew she had known who he was. 

She walked to the door, hips swaying. Just before she left, she paused, glancing over her shoulder. Her deep blue eyes seared through his soul, igniting a peculiar ache in his chest. 

“You should know,” she said, “I think I’ve finally set my cap.”

He raised his eyebrows. “On who?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she smirked. “I’d lose my air of mystery.”

Draco laughed. “I learned your name within moments of entering this room.”

She lifted a shoulder, opening the door. “I expect to hear from you soon, Mr. Malfoy.”

With that, Astoria slipped out, the door falling gently shut behind her. 

Draco huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if their entire meeting had been by chance, or if it had been an intricate trap, courtesy of his mother and the Greengrasses. 

Either way, he intended to find out. 


End file.
